


Coffees & Come-ons

by luckeyygirl



Series: Pancakes & Perks [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee date, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, really they're just too adorable dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6532555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckeyygirl/pseuds/luckeyygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa. Clarke can’t help but to smile at her name alone. She never imagined volleyball would lead her here. Well to be honest some of it she had imagined. The sore-ness. The muscle aches. The exhaustion. The grumpiness due to that exhaustion. Those she was all prepared for-had even warned her mother about. (Her mother studiously avoids being anywhere near Clarke’s room until after one in the afternoon on the weekends.)  But she had never anticipated something good coming out of being forced to join the school’s volleyball team in order to graduate high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffees & Come-ons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saphie05](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saphie05/gifts).



> So much for that other story just being a oneshot huh?
> 
> This little ditty is dedicated to my best friend Veronica. Surprise! 
> 
> It's unbeta'd, cause Veronica is my beta and I wanted this to be a surprise. Any mistakes are mine.
> 
> Happy reading and let me know what you think! :)

There is a fourth thing that Clarke Griffin hates. Along with having to wear anything that constitutes actual clothing, being hot and exercise, she loathes being awake early. If there was a dictionary entry for the antithesis of a morning person there would be a portrait of Clarke as its definition. School is a necessary evil, so she has grown accustomed to having to be up at ungodly hours. Volleyball became a second necessary evil, which meant even earlier start times to her days. While volleyball has become slightly less evil in Clarke’s eyes, due largely to a certain green eyed brunette, she still despises the need to be awake at zero dark thirty. So her weekends usually mean Clarke doesn’t leave her bed unless it’s in search of food or the bathroom, and even then it is never before noon. Getting as much sleep as possible is Clarke’s number one biological imperative and as such she takes it seriously enough for there to be an almost permanent Clarke-shaped divot in her mattress. That indentation is currently Clarke-less because the blonde is neck deep in her closet searching through her far too large collection of clothes because as much as she desperately wants to remain in her pajamas, she would never forgive herself for it. Not today. Today she has plans. Plans at a coffee shop. A coffee shop that Lexa will be in.

Lexa. Clarke can’t help but to smile at her name alone. She never imagined volleyball would lead her here. Well to be honest some of it she had imagined. The sore-ness. The muscle aches. The exhaustion. The grumpiness due to that exhaustion. Those she was all prepared for-had even warned her mother about. (Her mother studiously avoids being anywhere near Clarke’s room until after one in the afternoon on the weekends.) But she had never anticipated something good coming out of being forced to join the school’s volleyball team in order to graduate high school. She figured she would trudge her way through it, hating every second, and scrape by with the minimum effort just so she would receive her physical education credit. Now though things are different. Now she looks forward to volleyball, which still makes her cringe to admit, even if it’s only to herself. Clarke is still not a fan of exercise, still thinks her captain is at best overzealous and at worst bordering on lunacy, still drags her feet on her way to practices in the mornings. But game days are a totally different story after they lost the exhibition match to Polis Academy. Game days will forever be colored by the memory of the first time she laid eyes on Lexa, and that is something that Clarke knows she could never hate.

So here she is, at seven thirty in the morning on a Saturday, not only awake but already showered. She isn’t supposed to meet Lexa until nine thirty but Clarke knew she was going to need time to figure out what to wear. She doesn’t even really understand why she’s nervous. It’s just coffee. And it can’t be any more awkward than their first conversation was. There are few things stranger than flirting while blood streams steadily from your nose. It is likely an interaction that all who witnessed it will never forget. She knows Octavia won’t because the lecture she got after the match was over lasted forty minutes and contained phrases such as “don’t even think about it” “she’s the enemy” and “I hope that spike didn’t rattle your brain too hard and make it incapable of basic functions like not talking to our greatest rivals.” Obviously she’s chosen to ignore those phrases in favor of seeing viridian eyes light up when Lexa laughs. Octavia doesn’t have to know. It’s just coffee, not like they’re declaring unwavering devotion to each other. Besides, they don’t play Polis for another couple of weeks. Shaking herself from the chills that still tingle down her spine when she imagines the glare Octavia had sent her when she was done talking, she decides on denim cutoffs and a tank top with an open back. Slipping on her flip-flops Clarke moves into her bathroom to fix her hair, debating whether or not she should leave it down because summer is still hanging on strong despite the fact that they are more than halfway through September already. Choosing to compromise with an artfully disheveled bun, she heads back to her room and sits on her bed, wondering what the hell she’s supposed to do with herself for the next hour and a half. “Damnit Clarke you could still be sleeping right now but no, your stupid brain had to panic over not being able to find something to wear to go get coffee with the girl you spent an hour drooling over last week,” she berates herself. She tries reading. She fails. She makes it through every medium of social media available to her. It only wastes ten minutes. She attempts to focus her attention on the episode of Orange is the New Black still playing on her laptop. She zones out within minutes when Piper starts another monologue. “Screw it,” she says as she gets up. She grabs her wallet and keys from her dresser, runs a light sheen of lip gloss over her mouth, and with one last check of her eyeliner she is out the door and down the stairs.

Her mother sits at the counter in the kitchen reading the paper and nursing a cup of coffee. The look she gives Clarke when she sees her tells the blonde that she thinks she’s hallucinating. “It is five to eight in the morning on a Saturday. Am I dreaming? I really need to stop watching the Twilight Zone before I go to sleep at night if I’m going to wake up in it as well,” Abby quips. “You clearly missed your calling mother. Forget saving lives, you could be changing them with your comedic genius.” “Easy tiger, I’m just surprised to see you at this time of day. What’s got you all flustered?” Abby asks. Clarke shrugs before answering, “I’m not flustered. I’m just going out for coffee.” “At eight in the morning on a weekend? I’ve had to drag you out of bed on multiple occasions just to be able to wash your sheets and ensure that you didn’t lose the use of your legs due to muscle atrophy. Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” Abby says with a smile she tries to hide behind her coffee mug. “Right. Bye Mom. I’ll be back later,” is Clarke’s reply. “Have fun Clarke! Bring me back one of those muffins you know I love that I can never remember the name of! And a piece of banana bread for your father! He comes home this afternoon! Love you!” “Love you too!” Clarke yells as the door slams behind her.

Tucking her wallet into her back pocket she puts her earbuds in and begins the walk to the coffee shop. As The Spill Canvas pours into her ears she stops to admire the flickering of sunlight across the lake that serves as the backdrop to her yard. Deciding she has time to spare to appease her inner amateur photographer she stops to take a picture before posting it to Instagram with a caption of “I guess I can maybe see the appeal of waking up before noon. Only because I’m already on my way to get my caffeine fix.” It takes her fifteen minutes to make it to Sacred Grounds. The only reason she forgives the pun is because they serve what can only be considered the best coffee on the face of the planet. Walking inside she moves towards the back of the café to grab a table and find a way to pass the time until Lexa arrives. Only she doesn’t have any time to wait because Lexa is sitting at the table she walks up to, brown curls shielding her face as her head is buried in a book. She stops and takes a minute to just take in the picture in front of her. Eyes framed in black glasses track back and forth across the page and her lower lip is drawn between her teeth. Lexa is obviously totally submerged in whatever she’s reading because she hasn’t even noticed there is someone standing at her table. Clarke can’t help but find it adorable. Taking the final step up to the table Clarke takes her earbuds out and grinning softly says, “Fancy meeting you here. At…” she glances to her watch, “Eight twenty.”

Lexa’s eyes snap to hers at the sound of her voice. They widen in surprise before she blinks herself out of her stupor. “Clarke! I uh…see I was just…wait, what are you doing here already?” At that Clarke blushes. “Well I just happened to be in the neighborhood and figured it made more sense to wait here than to walk home and come back,” she lies smoothly. Or so she thinks. With a smirk Lexa closes her book and says, “In the neighborhood? At eight in the morning? On a Saturday? You sure you just couldn’t stand waiting anymore to meet with me?” Feeling the heat grow even stronger in her cheeks Clarke shrugs and replies, “Maybe. But what does it say about you that when I came in you were already here Lexa?” That shuts her up. Rather than reply, because really Lexa doesn’t have one for that, she stands and pulls a chair out for Clarke to join her at the table. The blonde sits and removes the sunglasses from her face which results in a yelp from Lexa. “Jesus! Clarke…tell me that isn’t my fault.” Clarke blinks confused until she remembers. “Oh. I would if I could?” Lexa just hangs her head. Blue eyes are as gorgeous as ever, but they are made even more blue by the darkness that surrounds both of them. Lexa can’t believe that it’s been a week and Clarke still has not one, but two black eyes from the spike she took to the face in the exhibition match. A spike that Lexa delivered. Flooded with guilt Lexa raises green eyes to meet Clarke’s, “I feel like I owe you so much more than a coffee. God Clarke I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay Lexa, really. It was bound to happen at some point with my complete lack of athletic ability. It’s more my fault than yours anyway. My hands should have been ready to return the ball.” “Still. That looks painful.” Clarke offers a small smile at the concern she hears in the other girl’s voice, “Not so much anymore. Besides I think they add to my character.” Shaking her head Lexa replies, “Whether or not that’s true they definitely don’t detract from your beauty.” Clarke’s smile widens at that and she is overrun with a wave of affection for the girl who can be so unapologetically sweet while she runs her volleyball team with an iron fist.

“So…about that coffee?” Clarke leads. “Oh. Sure. What would you like?” Lexa asks. Rattling off her order she watches as the brunette makes her way to the counter and takes advantage of the opportunity to study her from afar. She is wearing tight fitted capris and a green t-shirt that looks like it’s softer than the clouds in the sky. Her hair is curling wildly around her face unrestricted and her feet are covered by low rise Converse that match her shirt. She looks perfectly at home both in her clothes and in this coffee shop and Clarke has to wonder how much time Lexa has spent here. And how they’ve never run into each other before because this isn’t the first time Clarke has been to Sacred Grounds. While she is contemplating the impossibility of her never having noticed someone that looks like Lexa before, the object of her thoughts returns with their coffees. “I know you only asked for the drink, but I feel super guilty about your dual black eyes, so I got you a muffin. It’s a sad apology, but the best I could do on short notice.” Taking Lexa’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze the blonde replies, “Thank you Lexa. You really didn’t have to but it’s very sweet of you.” Tearing off a piece of the muffin Clarke puts it in her mouth and has to hold back the moan at the flavor that explodes across her tongue. “Oh my god Lexa this is the greatest apology I think I’ve ever received.” Laughing at both Clarke’s words and the expression on her face she returns an “I’m glad you’re enjoying it Clarke. They’re a personal favorite of mine.”

They exchange small talk over their breakfast, taking the time to learn all the little things about each other. She knows that Lexa is a senior at Polis Academy, her favorite color is green, and she has a little brother named Aden. Lexa finds out that Clarke is an only child, but her two best friends Wells and Raven are like her siblings, she is addicted to Netflix (“No really Lexa, it changed my life.”) and that she wants to be a doctor. Before they know it hours have passed full of laughing and smiling and sharing embarrassing childhood memories. Clarke’s phone ringing is what interrupts Lexa’s latest laughing fit over that time Clarke decided she wanted to be Pocahontas when she was six and got stuck in the bushes next to her house while she was “scouting.” “Hey Mom,” Clarke answers, mouthing an “I’m sorry” to Lexa. The brunette waves her off and finishes off her coffee before going to the bin to throw out the empty cup to give Clarke some privacy. 

She stands off to the side of the counter and just watches Clarke as she speaks. She admits that her attention was caught from the very first moment she saw the blonde in the gym a week ago. She had arrived at Arkadia High ready to completely own them on the volleyball court and they had done so, but she never expected to find herself completely enamored by a member of the rival team. Her drive to beat Arkadia was the only thing that stopped her from approaching Clarke at first sight. Nothing could have stopped her after Clarke was hurt though, especially with it having been Lexa’s fault. She was unprepared for the flirting but takes pride in her quick recovery. Now here they are, on their coffee date. “Wait, was this even a date? Does Clarke think it’s a date? Do I think it’s a date?” she panics internally. She can feel the blush rising up the back of her neck and darts into the bathroom before Clarke can witness her having a meltdown in the middle of a coffee shop. Splashing cold water on her face she looks into the mirror and steels herself. “You’ve got this Woods. You’ve handled much more stressful situations. Stop freaking out over this and get back out there,” she says to herself.

When she returns to their table Clarke has finished her conversation and is cleaning up the trash from her muffin and coffee. Stomach sinking at the idea that their time together has apparently come to an end Lexa takes a deep breath and approaches Clarke. “Hey Lexa. I’m really sorry to have to cut this short but my mom needs me home. My dad is coming back from a business trip this afternoon and apparently the family reunion is required at the airport rather than the house.” Shaking her head Lexa replies, “I totally understand Clarke. No need to apologize. I had a really great time with you.” “I did too. We’ll have to do it again sometime.” Reluctant for their time to end both of them look around for any excuse to delay the inevitable. “Lex-“ “Clar-“ they begin simultaneously. Laughs echo through the coffee house until Lexa raises her hand in a silent gesture for Clarke to continue. “Would you maybe want to…walk me back to my house?” Beaming at the opportunity to spend a few more precious minutes with the blonde Lexa is quick to agree.

They take their leave and begin the short walk back to Clarke’s house, Lexa taking her turn to share a story about the time she begged her father to build her a treehouse in the backyard before refusing to go into it because she then decided she was afraid of heights. With a short laugh Clarke responds, “I can’t imagine you being afraid of anything, _Commander_.” Clarke using that nickname does funny things to her stomach and she swallows around the lump in her throat before responding, “I was five years old. Now though? You’re right, I’m fearless. Well almost.” Raising an eyebrow in silent question Clarke is curious as to what could possibly scare Lexa, who seems so strong and unbreakable. “I’m a little afraid…that uhh…you might not react well….” Lexa begins. “Come on Lexa, you can tell me.” “I’m afraid that you might not react well…when Polis kicks Arkadia’s ass in the game in two weeks,” she finishes with what can only be described as a shit-eating grin. Clarke laughs and shoves Lexa towards the bushes they’re walking next to, mumbling a “shut up” as she does so. 

The blonde looks up and finds that they’re already in front of her house. “Well, this is me.” Lexa stops in front of Clarke, unsure of what the protocol is for a maybe date. Clarke solves that dilemma for her. Stepping forward she throws her arms around Lexa’s shoulders and thanks her again for the coffee and the laughs. Wrapping her arms around the blonde’s waist Lexa returns the hug and the sentiment. Clarke pulls away and starts to walk up the pathway to her front door and Lexa turns to begin the walk back to the coffee shop so she can pick up her bike. She is stopped by Clarke calling out, “Lexa wait!” Stopping and turning towards the sound of the voice she sees Clarke pulling something out of the pocket of her shorts. The blonde takes the marker and grabs Lexa’s wrist, extending her arm so she can write on it. When the motion ceases Lexa looks down to see seven numbers written on her forearm. Clarke meets her gaze and winks at her before saying, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” as she backs away slowly. She is about to throw caution to the wind and just ask Clarke what she’s been dying to know for the last twenty minutes or so when she gets her answer. Stopping her withdrawal Clarke steps forward and leans up to plant a kiss on Lexa’s cheek, too close to the corner of her mouth to be completely platonic, and says “Until next time Lexa.” As she turns once more to make her way into her house Lexa brings her fingers to the spot on her cheek still burning from the pressure of Clarke’s lips and thinks to herself, “Definitely a date Woods.” Definitely a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story and Ready Position. Attack. Six Pack. (No Not Just Lexa's Abs) are now part of a series called Pancakes & Perks. I will likely be adding to it in the future. (Definitely adding to it if my best friend has anything to say about it.)
> 
> Don't forget to leave me a comment and tell me what you enjoyed about this one!
> 
> Thanks for reading.


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